


Vice

by CarrieBaby37



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 14:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16766779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarrieBaby37/pseuds/CarrieBaby37
Summary: It was no secret that the war took its toll on Hermione Granger.





	Vice

**Author's Note:**

> I do NOT own Harry Potter.

It was no secret that that the war took it's toll on Hermione Granger. She woke up that morning with a pounding head and no recollection of where she was. She glanced to her left to see a clock on the nightstand flashing 7:27. She groaned and glanced to her right. A mop of brown hair was curled under the covers beside her. She quietly eased her way off the bed and began gathering her clothes. 

She was no stranger to mornings like this. As she walked towards the right side of the bed, she retrieved her bra that was halfway under the bed and caught a glimpse of the face hidden only halfway under the covers. Blaise Zabini. Slytherin. Her year. She pulled her bra and shirt on as she looked around for her knickers. Giving up, she pulled her pants on and quietly let herself out of the small flat, making sure to grab her heels on the way out. Upon reaching the farthest hallways from the Slytherin's door, she apparated the quiet of her own apartment. 

O-O

A shower, a nap, and a new wardrobe later, Hermione found herself in a different bar. The Hanged Man read the sign, and she sighed internally. She learned the hard way that going to the same bar consecutively led to running into previous encounters. She wasn't looking for a reoccurring fling. Just another vice. So with her head held high, and a fake smile plastered to her face, she entered the run down pub. 

She looked around the pub for an empty table, deciding last minute to just sit at the bar. She climbed upon the stood and leaned into the counter, flashing her chest to the bartender. He analyzed to girl in front of him and flashed her a toothy grin. "Now why would a beautiful girl such as yourself be in a dump like this?" 

"It depends on who's asking." 

He grinned and asked her what her poison was. 

"Scotch. On the rocks."

The bartender just nodded and poured her drink. He walked down the bar to help another customer and her mind drifted to the last year. She silently wondered when she lost herself, although it wasn't exactly hard to pinpoint the reason. 

Ron.

She shuddered and downed her drink in one gulp, flagging down the bar keeper. It had been a little over a year since Ron had passed away. He was hit with a deadly curse during one of his travels as an auror. The bartender poured her another scotch and she quietly thanked him when she felt someone sit in the stool beside her. She refused to let Ron cloud her mind anymore and did what she usually did to numb the overpowering pain she felt on a daily basis; downed another glass. 

"How can you drink that god-awful drink?" she heard from beside her, and she turned to see none other than Draco Malfoy sitting beside her. She glanced over to see the bartender fill her glass, then turned her eyes to Malfoy once more. 

"I don't think, I just drink." she squeezed out. "What are you drinking?" 

"Firewhiskey." He said as he raised his glass to hers. She hesitated, then brought her glass to his before the two drank their glasses. 

"I saw the article in the Daily Profit, I know we weren't exactly friends, but I'm sor-"

"Well, that's an interesting way to put it. 'Not exactly friends' is quite the understatement don't you think?" she chuckled. "No matter, the past is the past. And might I say, the future really has done you well." she said as she softly ran her hand up his arms. 

"You don't have to act like that, Hermione. Not with me." He tried make eye contact with the witch in question who avoided his gaze. 

"I'm not quite sure I know what you're on about," she said as her hand made its way to his taught chest. 

"I can see it, you know? In your eyes. You can't hide it from me." With these words, she finally brought her eyes to his. "I can see your pain. You don't have to be like this with me."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much," she barely whispered right before she drank her fifth glass of scotch. The room was getting quite fuzzy and she no longer felt the pain she was trying so hard to suppress. Her ever-roaming hands had slowly trickled their way down his abdomen and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. 

"Come to my place." It wasn't a question, but it wasn't quite a demand either. He was shocked the words had even left his mouth. She nodded and he pulled her chair out for her as his other hand took hers. They walked out to the apparition point and with a CRACK, they disappeared. 

O-O

"You said you can see it? In my eyes?" She whispered to him as she settled down on the couch beside him. He nodded to answer her question. She felt the tears and she scolded herself for allowing the pain to overtake her. "Can you help me, then? Make me feel better. Make me forget." He simply nodded once more and brought her face to his, softly caressing her soft lips. 

O-O

He awoke the next morning and rubbed his eyes as he tried to recall if it was all a dream. His fingers brushed over the skin just below his collarbone and he could still feel her lips on his skin. He rolled over to greet the beautiful witch good morning, but found the bed empty. He felt his heart break for the witch. He knew, however, he was just a stepping stone in her journey for peace, and that she was already out there looking for her next vice.


End file.
